


Cop Show One Shots

by AshenStardust



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Limitless (TV)
Genre: AU most of the time, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Admission of love, Canon-Typical Violence, Car Sex, Cheating, Cop Shows, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Morally Grey Reader, One Shot Collection, POV Second Person, Reader is superhuman or enhanced, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, smut chapters will be marked, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-03-05 19:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18835078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshenStardust/pseuds/AshenStardust
Summary: Listen. Cop shows are the main television I consume. I adore the characters and abhor the crimes. Some of these will be violent and some will be soft. Will any of them be accurate to practicing law or the psychology of criminals or reality? Probably not. Hopefully the characterization is acceptable and the interactions are genuine.Each chapter will have its own warnings in the beginning author notes. The pairings will be stated in the chapter titles.





	1. Aaron Hotchner / Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> s3 e20/s4 e1 : Reader gets caught in the car explosion with Kate instead of Hotchner. During the trauma she fades in and out of remembering an old case she worked with the BAU. _Italics are flashbacks_
> 
> Canon typical violence, violence against women, mentioned cannibalism, mentioned child abuse, reader has PTSD.

“[y/n]! [y/n]!” you could faintly hear Hotch’s voice over the ringing in your ears. What happened? You couldn’t remember anything from the last few minutes of your life. From where you were in reality you could feel the earth spiraling through space more acutely than you ever had before. Even with your eyes closed you could feel your body being flung violently without moving a muscle. Your mind, in some vain attempt to ground you, pushed further into itself and you were momentarily lost to the outside world. A memory came to the forefront of your mind.

_To say the team took well to your introduction would be a gross understatement. They saw you as yet another thing to keep track of and not as the asset you were and could be. You were a hush hush lab project. Created, stolen, and raised in the United States. They, ever ominous and unknowable, wanted you out in the field. They didn’t want you overseas yet. CIA made sense. FBI was a good place for a test run. You were placed in the BAU both for your talents and for theirs. Their orders were to use you as they saw fit, and to study you. Your orders were to do whatever the BAU said. Typically, they said sit down and shut up._

_“[y/n]. Still with us?” Morgan asked. You looked up at him and the glaze in your eyes disappeared. On any given day you could not tell what Morgan thought of you. He was put off by you the most of any of them. Not because he didn’t like you, but because you made him question his faith. At the same time, he was often the most compassionate of them when he dealt with you._

_“Always,” you replied. You had accompanied the team to their jet for the first time, and now that you were in the air you were having some trouble focusing. You had no fear of flying, nor did you have any of crashing. Being in such close confines with the five profilers was flooding your senses. The unknowable They would be distraught to learn your absolute loyalty to the BAU team. On some level you were distraught as well. These people at most didn’t trust you and at worst hated you, yet you would do anything for them if only out of a desire to see them flourish._

_“There’s that look again. What’s got you so troubled?” he asked. Nothing was ever missed between any of them, but they knew so little of who you were as an individual. You were almost certain this was the first time anyone had asked you about you._

_“The only people I’m allowed to interact with see me as a burden and an abomination. I’m taking it all in as I go,” you answered politely. Your voice was as soft and calm as ever – barely louder than a whisper even over the sound of the plane. You saw Hotchner’s eyes flick up in surprise. He’d heard you. They all had._

_“Is that what you think?” Hotchner asked._

_“What else could I think?” you asked in return. Your head tilted slightly. “I’m not offended. I know what I am,” you reassured with a shrug. Both J.J and Reid opened their mouths to say something before closing them again._

_“You’re a person,” Rossi said._

_“I’m a killer. The villains you take down. They’re me, but I’m weaponized and that’s worse,” you stated bluntly. You had no qualms about killing. You had no qualms about having no qualms about killing. Someday the government would use you as they planned, and you would have no moral dilemmas over what you were doing. “You are, all of you, good and moral. I’m not, I’m barely human, and I know it bothers you,” you said. This was the first time they were taking you far from D.C. In the beginning they’d been taking cases that were close to home solely because you were so sheltered._

_“You’ve saved all our lives… more than once. You’ve been a part of our team for months now. Most of the villains, as you say, that we’ve brought to justice we did because you were there to help,” Reid said. Of everyone you knew Reid wasn’t disgusted by you, but he was awkward and protected and that made getting close difficult. Plus, he saw you and what you went through as a curiosity. There were times when you avoided him of your own free will so you wouldn’t have to relive your past._

_“No one here thinks that about you,” Morgan said. He touched your arm lightly and you jumped at the feeling. “Your rules are different than our rules and we all understand that,” he added._

_“You never let me… do anything,” you said, frustrated that you couldn’t put your feelings into the right words._

_“Somehow you always manage to get involved anyway,” Hotchner said. He sounded amused although his words made you flinch._

_“You aren’t trained to do what we do,” Reid said kindly, simply, “but that doesn’t mean you aren’t helpful.”_

_“I see the way you look at me. I can feel what you feel when I’m around you,” you said, your brain struggling to put your own feelings into words._

“[y/n]? Oh god. We have to go in there. We have to get her,”

Why could you hear Hotch’s voice so clearly? It was like he was on the other side of the wall. You wanted to call back. To scream. You wanted to let him know that you were there and that you were okay.

Wait.

Were you okay? Of course you were. Your mind had taken an inventory without you even realizing. You couldn’t breathe and you could feel more than a few bones broken or shattered. To anyone else you looked dead. There was a high chance you didn’t have a heartbeat. Things like that didn’t matter to your well-being. Your mind was still active, so you were alive, and you were fine. All you could do was wait for Hotch to rescue you. 

The ringing in your ears became unbearable again and your mind threatened to retreat once more into itself. You could feel your body trying to heal. The process was more painful than the original damage. There was a divine danger to receding into your own mind, but for now you had few choices. You accepted the darkness once more.

_The ‘unsub’ was terrorizing women. You were yet unfazed by any creative cruelties that came across the screen. Not because you didn’t care that people were being killed, although that was sometimes a part of it, but because you had been through worse and you had seen worse. That the crimes so often involved women was infuriating and you could tell it ate at the team when day after day they were forced to consume violence against women._

_You truly hadn’t expected this case to hit so close to home. The man, for the team was certain the unsub was a man, took young women from their homes and kept them locked away for months before disposing of their bodies. The things he did to them. It hadn’t been the torture before death that had triggered you. No. It was the evidence of broken bones beginning to heal and yellow bruises buried under deep purple. The abuse, however relatively short-lived, reminded you too much of what it had been like to grow up as you had._

_These women were older than you when you had been submitted to those horrors, yet your mind could not help but return you to an adolescent body. The beatings. The intentional breaking of bones. The torture with anything your caretakers could get their hands on. Fire. Ice. Asphyxiation. Other things so creative you couldn’t think about it too long without becoming lost._

_It became clear early in the case that you would be less help than normal. Even with their assurances on the plane you knew they must be relieved you could not butt into their case. Hotchner didn’t want you in the field for clear reasons, but he didn’t want to set you up in the FBI field office either. You were breaching catatonia at any given moment. You already had to be watched twenty-four seven as per the rules of your care. He couldn’t hole you up in a hotel room without doing the same to himself or another working member of the team. In the end you were set up in a quiet dark corner of the field office and the team worked the case near-silently around you._

_“Talk to me,” Hotchner said. He’d been staying behind more often than normal. You stared at him with eyes clearly a thousand miles away. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, and his voice sounded like it was coming from across the room instead of right in front of you. You shrugged and tears pooled heavily in your eyes. You were overreacting and you knew it, but you couldn’t stop. Time wouldn’t slow down for you. You were no longer in control._

_He sighed loudly. Frustration. The smell of it was thick on him. He was frustrated with you. Well so were you. “May I?” he asked. His hand was half reached out. Kindness, compassion, intention. You nodded so minutely you wondered if he’d even seen it. He had. He didn’t miss anything especially when it came to you. His hand reached the rest of the way and he took your hand in his. It was warm and strong and calloused, but you didn’t know from what. His thumb stroked the back of your hand soothingly. You hated to be touched. In that moment the desire to be held was almost overwhelming. The tears that had pooled in your eyes had long since fallen in thick streams down your face. Now, with the help of human comfort, sobs wracked your body._

“You’re going to be okay now. I’ve got you,” Hotch’s voice was right in your ear. You tried to make a noise, anything to let him know you were there with him. Faintly a low gargling sound reached your ears and you wondered where it was coming from and why it was able to cut through the ringing. You felt warmth surround your body as it was moved independently from the earth’s rotation. If the sensation of spinning before wasn’t disorienting it was now. “[y/n],” Hotch said. He began saying more but you were too caught up in the way his voice sounded whenever he said your name. He said it like a prayer. He said it like it was the only thing that mattered to him. He said it like you were the only thing that mattered to him. You let yourself be lulled back into your memory.

_They couldn’t catch him. They couldn’t find him. He was dumping more bodies. He was abducting more women. He should be making mistakes. He should be catchable. The team was at an utter loss. Their faith in themselves was waning and the police had long been lost to despair._

_You woke from your catatonia from sheer force of will. You would save these women and no matter what you would kill the man that was committing these atrocities against them. You left in the night. Reid was asleep at the table. Files were splayed across anything they could stick to. No one stopped your leaving. As you walked you wondered if they knew what you were. The BAU had been read into your file extensively. The information they had on you, any information about you, was not easily shared._

_The thought was filed to the back of your mind as you recalled the weeks of work the BAU had been committing to this case. Maps on maps on maps overlaid in your mind as you worked through where they had already been and where they had yet to go. There was a strong chance they’d interacted with the unsub already. They had probably already been to his kill site and to the place where he kept the women._

_An abandoned school sold to a civilian. The team had marked that as strange but ultimately nothing panned out. You knew where it was in relation to where you were. You had no doubts that was where you would find the man you were looking for. The team had not had enough for a warrant for the whole school, they had not even thought a further search was needed. You were not bound as they were._

_You descended upon the school in a silent fury. The unsub could not know you were there. Not yet. You could hear the women. You could feel their despair as salt and water on your skin. He’d modified the basement. The women had been underneath all along. You found his torture chamber first. A woman was strung up in an intricate mess of rope and knots. Her skin was cut in meaningless patterns and her blood made the floor slick. Her shoulders had popped out of their sockets from misuse and you could feel how physically weak she was. You knew she thought of death as a mercy._

_He was there too. Clothed. A crazed look in his eyes. As soon as you entered the room, he forgot all about his victim. You were the new prize and you could see he hungered for you. The sometimes-missing chunks of flesh made a disturbing amount of sense now. He couldn’t be working alone. That thought crossed your mind the same time you heard a metal pipe disturb the wind shy of your head._

_You ducked and spun around. Your hand reached up and captured your assailant’s neck with practiced ease. You squeezed until you felt his trachea crush and rip under your hand. You dropped him and turned on the cannibal behind you. A fearless smile marred his face and you wondered what he must be thinking to convince himself this was not death before him. You didn’t get closer to him and he remained unguarded by anything but the open stifling air of the basement. A dagger left your hand and found itself deep in his eye socket. He crumpled to the floor._

_The woman had died. You thought she died from blood loss. You left the room and began opening doors. Most of them opened to tiny cement cells. Three held women and the rest were well used but empty. You’d thought ahead enough to pocket a phone. The women were in bad shape. There was little chance of you getting them out of the school without worsening their conditions. Hotchner’s cell number was one you’d memorized. The phone rang long enough to connect the call and the other line picked up._

_“Hello?” Hotchner asked. He sounded panicked. Worried._

_“We’re at the high school,” you said quietly. “In the basement. They had them in the basement,” you said into the phone. You could hear Hotchner moving and giving orders, but he didn’t end the call. “There are three women alive with me. They’re in bad shape Sir. One other is dead. I think,” you said because they needed the information and you didn’t want to let the silence settle yet._

_“We’re on our way. We’ll be there in a few minutes. Paramedics are on their way, but I think we’ll be there first,” he said. He was forcing his voice to remain level. You could tell there was emotion he was holding back but from this distance you could not say which emotions exactly. He was surely furious with you. You’d left without telling anyone. You’d confronted an unsub on your own._

_You started to freak out. The thought that he might send you back. You couldn’t go back. You wouldn’t. They weren’t ready to move you to another unit. You would be forced back to that terrible place. “[y/n]? Are you with me? [y/n]?” Hotchner was still on the phone. He must have heard your hyperventilating._

_“I’m here.” Your voice was small._

“She’s lucky to be alive,” you heard a man saying. You were in a bed. There was light coming in from seemingly everywhere. You could feel ten different things applied to you or sticking out of you. You groaned and this time it sounded human. 

“[y/n]?” Hotch was back at your side. His hands held both of yours. The man he was talking to had been forgotten in your awakening.

“Hotch,” you croaked. Your voice sounded like dry gravel and graveyard wind. You heard him chuckle, but it was the kind of sound a person made to hold back tears. It didn’t hold back the tears for very long. He wept silently beside you and you tried to stay up. You tried to open your eyes. You wanted to look at him and to talk to him. Instead unconsciousness reached you once more.

_“What were you thinking?” Morgan asked. They were all outraged with you. Not the loud outraged. Not the quick storm that came and left without any real damage. They were quietly simmering in their negativity and at any moment they would deliver the finishing blow. Couldn’t they see you were already broken?_

_“I was thinking I knew where the women were and how to save them,” you said. You were still in the basement of the school. Paramedics had stabilized the women enough to move them out and to the safety of a hospital. You had stayed behind with the team to process the scene._

_“Why leave by yourself? If you knew where they were you could have told us,” Reid said. You didn’t know whether his calm tone was a blessing or a curse. He was the only one that didn’t seem wholly upset with you. Perhaps it was because he was the one that fell asleep when he was meant to be watching you. You didn’t blame him for his lapse. They’d all been worked to the bone over this case._

_You clenched your jaw so tightly you heard one of the sockets crack. The small amount of composure you’d held to commit to this feat was wavering. Now that everything was over you were weaker than before you’d started. “This reminded me too much of my past. I thought if I was able to snuff out this blight then maybe my past wouldn’t haunt me so vividly,” you said. Your already quiet voice was barely a whisper._

_That effectively shut them up. They didn’t agree with your methods, but you could feel them letting go of their anger – if only for now. Hotchner approached you. He’d been deadly silent since he’d arrived on scene. His brown eyes searched yours, but you could not hold eye contact for long. You tried not to shrink away from him. Feeling only worry and kindness from him helped in that regard. “I’d like to hug you,” he said softly. You nodded, your eyes flicking back up to meet his – a silent begging. His arms enveloped you, crushed you, and you accepted his offered comfort. Your head rested on his chest and you let everything you’d been holding in come out. You sobbed loudly and ugly into him and he stood there and took it._

“[y/n]? I’m sorry I had to duck out, but I’m back now,” Hotch’s voice drew you from the last of your memory. The smell of coffee overtook the room. The earth was no longer spinning out of time and you opened an eye slowly. The lights were off, but the room was dim thanks to the light filtering in from the open door. You recognized you were in a hospital. Strange. You opened your other eye as slowly. 

“Hotch?” you asked. Your voice sounded broken like you’d been crying.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he vowed. He was sitting right next to your bed and his hands stroked your arms, your face, any part of you he could touch he did. 

“What happened?” you asked. It seemed your voice would need time to recover.

“The terrorists planet a bomb under the SUV. You and Kate were caught in the explosion. An ambulance came through and picked you both up. The terrorist group set a bomb in the ambulance to go off under the hospital they planned on driving you to. You were covered under the rubble of a tunnel when the bomb went off prematurely,” Hotch explained. He sounded so factual. Removed. What had he done to cope with your abduction? What hadn’t he done?

“I had a dream - or a memory – when I was out,” you said. You didn’t want him to think about you being lost.

“What was it about?” he asked.

“The moment that I fell in love with you. Or when I knew I could fall in love with you,” you said slowly. The ringing wasn’t so loud, but it was there, and your head was still swimming. Your body was healed enough for a painful escape should you need to. You’d need at least a few days to get back to fighting power. Hotch hummed his acknowledgement and set his coffee aside.

“Move over,” he said, standing over you. You complied and he carefully laid down next to you on the small bed. You took the I.V drip out of your arm and moved onto your side to cuddle into him. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his nose into your hair.

“I love you,”


	2. *Edward Morra / Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After receiving news from her boyfriend Brian Finch the Reader takes Edward Morra up on his proposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheating, rough sex, very slight dom/sub.

Brian Finch loved you. Loved you…

You didn’t have the heart to tell him you didn’t love him back. It wasn’t like it was his fault. He was kind, charming, smart, funny. Brian Finch was everything any rational person could want. You didn’t love him. You actually thought he was kind of boring. He was so good. He took being good to a level you had not experienced before. You didn’t want a bad guy, but you wouldn’t have minded a morally questionable guy.

Then you got a call from Senator Morra. That had had you on edge. How and why did he know you? What was he doing inviting you to lunch?

You talked with Finch about it extensively. You were still together, and he loved you or whatever. He told you to go to the lunch and that you had nothing to worry about. What he said sounded so logical, but he had this tick when he was lying. He was lying to you and you couldn’t even call him out on it. There were secrets he kept that you weren’t supposed to know about. You knew about most of them. You were discovering now another secret. Finch was involved with Senator Morra in some clandestine way.

You went to the lunch.

The restaurant was beyond upscale and Senator Morra had apparently rented out the entirety of it because he was sitting alone at a table in the middle of the otherwise vacant restaurant. He smiled at you as you approached. His body language was relaxed, curious, but his eyes had the same quality as Finch’s when he was on NZT. You’d known the man was dangerous before you arrived. Now you weren’t sure you’d be leaving with your life.

“[y/n],” he greeted as the waiter pulled your seat out for you. “So glad you could make it,” he said. He seemed so amicable it was unsettling. You wanted him to come at you as hard and fast as you knew he could. You wanted him to live up to all your anxieties because that was what you’d prepared yourself for.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you said. You were not as composed as the Senator. In fact, your stomach was bound to crawl out of your mouth at any moment while your skeleton physically escaped your skin. You didn’t even attempt to hide your fear and anxiety. 

“Do you want to know what’s worse than someone being afraid of me?” he asked. You got the feeling it was a rhetorical question. “Someone pretending to be afraid of me,” he answered.

You relaxed in your chair. Your body language shifted entirely, and you might as well have become an entirely new person. “When’d you figure it out?” you asked. The Senator only clicked his tongue disapprovingly. Brian had told you all he could about what he knew. Admittedly it wasn’t much, and you had to get the information out of him slowly or backwards as to not draw suspicion. You did know Senator Morra was the longest surviving NZT addict. You also knew Brian thought that fact made Morra the smartest person in the world. Morra was however weakened by his thinking. According to Brian the Senator looked decades ahead which left him weaker to the present. That had been your own idea and Brian had clearly been bothered by the supposed genius of it. Luckily you were able to leave before he had a chance to look at you too closely. 

“He told me he loved me this morning,” you admitted in the drawing silence. Your voice sounded strangled. As soon as the words left you mouth you wished they hadn’t. It was so clear you didn’t feel the same for him. If you were going to keep up the ruse, however long you were going to keep it up for, you needed get ahold of yourself. Senator Morra was the smartest person in the world and you were not subtle. If Brian was blind to your feelings now, he wouldn’t be for long.

“You don’t love him,” Senator Morra said. To hear it out loud was like getting slapped in the face but you could tell he wasn’t really talking to you when he said it. He was trying to figure something out for himself. “You’re an exceptional woman. I’d like to know your secret,” he said. What anyone else would say as a compliment he said as fact. You laved in his praise nonetheless.

You were somewhat grateful he was changing the subject from your little outburst. You had not meant to tell him about you and Brian. “What do you want to know?” you asked. You’d heard Finch’s opinion of Senator Morra. It seemed like he was the perfect morally questionable guy you’d been waiting for. And you were that cruel. Not that any of this meant anything, but you had sort of wanted it to mean something the moment you laid eyes on the Senator. 

Morra’s head tilted minutely. “He’s told you about me, but you figured out he was an asset of mine on your own. You’re not on NZT. What are you?” he asked. You quirked a brow but didn’t say anything. Finch hadn’t underplayed how intelligent Morra was. You could see the intelligence in his eyes, in the way he spoke, but to be the subject…

“Not human, but I suspect you already knew that,” you answered a moment later.

“I had my suspicions, but,” he said, gesturing to you. He’d needed the personal confirmation. You furrowed your brow. Had he not met other non-humans yet? Apparently not. Thinking about it you realized you hadn’t run into any other sentient species either. Maybe you really were the last. “How did you become involved with Finch?” he asked.

“Happenstance. I was a high-end mercenary before the FBI recruited me. I worked a file with Finch, and we’ve been dating ever since,” you said. It wasn’t a fairy-tale story, but it was as close to fairy-tale as your life had ever been. You’d ridden the fairy-tale high up until Finch professed his love.

Morra only offered you a wry smile. He was faster on the pick up than you’d ever seen Finch. The thought that Morra could be the one to figure out all your secrets sent a little thrill through you. You were always the one to know everything about the people around you without them knowing a thing about you in return. “What if I could offer you something more?” he asked.

You choked on the sound that wanted to come out of your mouth. You coughed and tried to clear your throat. That had been no more subtle than the noise you’d stopped, but you did feel marginally less embarrassed. Professional. Lunch. Boyfriend. You had other priorities beyond getting boned by the pretty Senator. In fact – getting boned by the pretty Senator was Not a priority. “Uh – what do you mean?” you asked as innocently as possible.

“You’re not happy with Finch. I could make you happy,” he propositioned. You opened and closed your mouth just enough times to look utterly braindead. Eventually you were able to stop doing that, but you had in no way collected yourself. You looked at Morra pleadingly. Words escaped you, and you hoped he could interpret what you wanted from him. Thankfully he only looked amused. “I know you’re interested in having sex with me. Beyond that I think you’re interested in seeing what being with me would be like,” he explained. You were, apparently, an open book.

You pretended to think for a heartbeat, but your mind had been made up before he’d even opened his mouth on the matter. “Okay,” you agreed. You were almost certain Morra was doing this for some other unknown benefit, but the potential benefits you would get in return… as of now you had no reason or want to say no. 

“There’s one thing you’ll have to do for me first,” he said because of course there was, “break up with Finch.”

That surprised you. Actually, it didn’t. Finch was an asset to Morra, but he was also a person. If you were cheating on Finch with Morra then there was a high chance he would lose Finch as an asset. Plus, his whole becoming more bit was probably a real plan he had right now. You wouldn’t be fuck buddies you’d be an item. Breaking up with Finch was the right thing to do, and now you had better motives to do so. “Fine,” you acquiesced looking down at the table. You scoffed a little laugh at what you’d ask for in return. Your eyes met Morra’s once more, but he seemed to already know what you were going to say. His pupils were blown and that was the only affirmation you had that he wanted the same. 

You were so fucked. Not in the hopefully fun and exciting ways you wanted the Senator to fuck you. This man was going to use you in ways you couldn’t yet imagine. You could see it formulating behind his eyes. Even before you sat down you knew he had studied you and was studying you. Morra was learning every tick and intricacy your body betrayed you with and you knew he was going to use it to tear you apart at his whim.

It was working.

With a decisive motion he was standing. The chair haphazardly knocked backward. Oddly he buttoned his suit jacket. His eyes never left yours, and between the two of you there wasn’t a single second missed – his blue eyes piercing into your soul, his deft fingers correcting fabric, the few people that were hanging around the floor of the restaurant leaving as silently as they had entered. 

He hadn’t even touched you. He’d barely talked to you and your lunch had to have been less than thirty minutes long total. You’d been intoxicated by him since you walked in. Breaking up with Finch would be hard but you would do it. You could do it. You would do anything Morra asked of you. You expected to be owned. Always. That fact had been the reason why you’d made such a good mercenary. That fact was the reason you were so eager to be kept and why Finch’s love made you uncomfortable. Was it healthy? No. Did you care? No. And Morra knew.

He was standing before you. You’d watched him take the few steps around the table. Your head tilted back as you looked up to meet his eyes. He looked down at you with purpose, reason, intention, and his hand came out to catch your chin - holding your gaze to his. You had to know. He had to make sure you knew. This was his end of the deal. Morra was a lucky man indeed. You would give him whatever you could and in return all he had to do was treat you the way he was going to treat you anyway.

He applied pressure on your chin, and you rose with it. “You’re a terrible slut,” he growled, and your face flushed properly. “Looking like this you’ve never been paid in sex,” he said, turning you around sharply. You gasped and your hands planted on the table to steady you. “Now you’re going to do whatever I ask,” he said his mouth too close to your ear. His chest was flush with your back and he used it to bend you over the table. “And I’ll get my fill of you,” he continued, grasping the fabric of your dress and pushing it up to expose your underwear. “And you’ll relish in every moment thinking you aren’t giving me enough,” he finished as he ripped your underwear off. The pain of the cloth cutting against your skin was nothing next to the arousal he’d awoken in you. He was right. Damn him.

One of his hands grabbed a fist full of hair and he forced your face into the table, so he no longer had to bend over to keep you in place. His other hand dug into your hip. You gave a test wiggle. His hand was firmly in your hair and your head was not going anywhere without its permission. When you moved your hips, he slapped your ass cheek so hard you cried out. You heard him unzip his pants and a heartbeat later you could feel the thick head of his cock press against your slick cunt. You shuddered at the sensation and with no more decorum he shoved his full length into you. You moaned and your pussy clenched around his hard length. His hand went to your hip once more, but he did not begin moving. You couldn’t twist your head to get a look at him, so you weren’t sure what was holding him up. You thought better of moving again, not because you hated being spanked but because you didn’t want to disobey him.

Eventually you heard him sigh. He’d taken maybe a minute to get used to you, but it had felt like an eternity. He started thrusting his hips, pulling back torturously slowly before swiftly pushing back in. The slow-fast rhythm he kept felt amazing as he knew exactly which parts of you to manipulate in order to bring you pleasure. Your face was still pressed firmly into the table, but it wasn’t like you wanted to be anywhere else. Well you might’ve liked to explore his body with your hands, but beggars couldn’t exactly be choosers.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me. Aren’t you?” he asked. His voice had dropped an octave and you could hear his breathy need in time with your own.

“Yes,” you answered too quickly. He changed his rhythm then, fucking you hard and fast. It was clear he was chasing his own release now and there was no telling if he would grant you the same pleasure. The fingers he had digging into your hip so hard you knew you’d bruise reached further to your clit. He pressed hard circles into it, and you were able to move your hips in time with his thrusts, guiding his cock although admittedly he didn’t need that much help in finding the places that brought you pleasure.

“Ask,” he warned as your cries became louder.

“Please Sir,” you begged, “please may I cum?” The attention he was giving your clit bordered on painful. You could tell he was as close to release as you were as his thrusts became more stuttered with each push and pull of friction.

“Let’s see if you can orgasm in time with me,” he said. The grip in your hair tightened and he lifted you by your head to stand. Your back pressed against his chest and you writhed under his control. You knew he was keeping you on edge. He was waiting for the exact right moment to have you cum so his own pleasure would be heightened for it. The fingers on your clit quickened into light little circles and his grip on your hair had you wondering if he planned on pulling your scalp from your skull. Your own hands reached up and gripped his forearm, trying to calm some of the pain. The new position opened you up to him in ways you didn’t realize were possible.

Your orgasm flushed over you then and you tried not to scream from it. You felt him cum inside you and you noticed your legs were wet with more than your own slick. Had he made you squirt? From the exceptional weakness in your legs and the muscles that were still convulsing chances were high that he had. He thrust into you once, twice, three times more before pulling out. You weren’t strong enough to stand on your own. Morra moved away from you and with little grace you fell to your knees. You were gasping for breath and the only solace you could take from your weakened state was that Morra seemed at least as effected as you.

“Break up with Finch and my people will be in touch,” he said. You heard him tidy himself up and then he was gone.


	3. Edward Morra / Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward Morra is always testing you in strange and new ways. The only problem is there is no right or wrong way to complete these tests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love confessions, secret relationships, emotionally abusive relationship.

You were in bed enjoying one of the few moments alone you had with the ever-busy Edward Morra. It was a rare day you were even allowed within his proximity. His team hated you, but much to their chagrin he adored you. You trailed lazy fingers over his chest, drawing one design or another. He hummed his contentment. In these small moments you knew he liked to watch you. He liked to study your body, your mind, whatever he could grasp while you lied naked in his bed.

“I have a task for you,” he told you softly. His voice was always like that around you – soft, kind, affectionate. Even when he said things you wished he’d never say. You groaned your displeasure, but no matter how much you didn’t like what he said you’d do whatever he asked. He’d had plenty of tasks for you over the months you’d known him, but none had been delivered like this. “I have an asset in the FBI. I need you to sleep with him,” he said.

Your brow furrowed as you looked to his face, questioning. His blue eyes pierced you – whether he wanted them to or not – and his thumb came up to smooth the wrinkle between your eyes. “Why?” you dared to ask. Morra was accommodating with you, but there were still limits to the freedoms his accommodations gave. His eyes never missed a thing, and they did not miss anything now.

“You’re self-conscious,” he said. A statement of fact. He moved and in doing so you were on your back. He kept moving until his body was above yours, His knees were on either side of your legs and his hands were planted next to your shoulders, boxing you in. He looked down at you, his body only an inch or so above your own. You could feel the heat of him, and the realness of his being above your own. “You are mine,” he said with the same finality he always used when he said that. It made you weak and it made your core curl with desire.

Your hands ghosted over his arms. There was nothing more that you wanted in the world than to pull Edward Morra to your body and not let him go until you forgot your own name. “Where and when?” you asked breathlessly. He smiled, pleased that you were doing as he asked, and sat back. You sat up with him not yet wanting your time together to be over.

“I set up a lunch meeting. You should have no problems with his handler, and you’ll have access to him when he’s on NZT. Sands will drive,” he said. He looked phenomenally pleased with himself – considerably more than usual. You offered him a strange look which he observed and promptly ignored. Morra let you go then, and you got ready for your lunch date. 

You chose to wear something simple but professional. You could tell it was driving Morra mad. He wanted you to wear something he’d bought you. He wanted Brian Finch to see the best you had to offer while simultaneously not wanting Brian to see you at all. You had no guess as to his motives in this task he’d given you, but you’d go along with it for as long as he desired. 

Cleverly no one had officially seen you with Morra before. You were able to enter Sands’ car and exit it without so much as a whisper of paparazzi. The… diner – had Brian chosen the meeting place? – was nondescript. It was a place Morra would never be caught dead entering. It was easy to spot Brian in the back corner of the questionable restaurant as he was the only non-employee. You joined him silently and waited for him to make the first move.

“So, you’re [y/n],” he said. Sharp eyes took in your everything and had been since before you breached the door. He was on NZT alright. 

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” you said. Brian raised a questioning brow but said nothing. “Morra was reluctant to tell me even your name. I imagine you know everything about me that is available to know,” you explained. Brian nodded slowly. The pieces, whatever pieces he had, were coming together in his mind and fracturing outward to endless plausible conclusions and presumptions. You could have helped the smile that came to your face, but you didn’t.

“I won’t tell you what you already know,” Brian said. You considered your options. There was a million and one ways you could get Brian into bed. The easiest being to simply ask him. Chances were high he’d say yes despite whatever hesitations he had about Morra. Problems arose when you considered this was mostly a test from Morra, and as with all his tests there was no right answer. He wanted you to be yourself, but that was an impossible task, so you moved on to any other option.

“He wants me to sleep with you,” you said. Brian laughed, but it was more from surprise than anything else. He looked more suspicious than before, but also more intrigued. You’d baited him into something. What that something was remained unknown for now.

“I’d be happy to,” Brian said easily.

“I know you would,” you said with a smirk.

“Do you know what he wants?” Brian asked.

“I don’t think I ever have,” you admitted. 

“I have a safe house,”

“Lead the way,”

Brian’s safe house was one of the most impressive you’d ever been too. He was bugged but otherwise unsupervised in a real apartment building, yet the rooms had state of the art safety features. The moment you entered the apartment the bugs went down. You’d checked for a live-feed before you entered and once you were sure you wouldn’t be sending any alerts to the FBI you went ahead and disabled them without Brian even noticing. Or maybe he had. His ear had twitched strangely when you’d done it.

“Nice place,” you complimented. It was lived in, but surprisingly tidy. Not that surprising considering he was on NZT.

“Want to get this over with?” he asked, unbuttoning his shirt with deft fingers.

“I am a lady,” you said, faking offense. Brian gave you a half smile. He was watching you now and planning how exactly he was going to take you down. Every thought, every plan, everything took only seconds to file through his brain.

“You consent to this?” he asked, still across the room from you. Damn, he was a good person.

“Do you?” you shot back curiously. His eyes narrowed, but he shrugged only a heartbeat later. Then he was advancing on you. You’d heard the door close and lock behind you when you’d entered and now he had you pressed against it. You wanted to make a face, but he’d grabbed your arm and twisted you around, so your front was pressed against the cold metal door. He had your arm tightly trapped behind you and if he used any more force your shoulder would dislocate.

His chest pressed against your back, and his teeth scraped over the curve of your ear. You shuddered beneath him and cursed your sensitivity. Morra had you figured out before he’d even taken you to bed and it seemed Brian wasn’t going to be much slower a study. “I think you are a very good girl [y/n],” he growled into your ear. “Morra’s not fool enough to waste you on me, and I’m not interested in seconds,” he added. That hurt. You gasped when his grip on your arm went from painful to on-the-verge-of-dislocating. 

“Please,” you gasped. “I can be good for you too,” you said. You pushed your hips into his and arched your back as best you could given your position. “Let me show you how good I am,” you begged breathily. You didn’t really want to do this, but you would do anything for Morra. Brian hummed in your ear – seemingly considering your proposal. He released your arm and took a step back. You turned around and rotated your shoulder a few times. 

“I want you to be bad,” he said. You whined at that. You knew exactly what he was going to say next, “don’t do what Morra asked.”

You thought about crying as you glared at him. The tears were there and ready for your command. They wouldn’t even be fake. You couldn’t disobey Morra. You hadn’t yet and you feared what might happen if you did. “Please,” you whispered. Your head dropped as you half pretended you could no longer meet his eyes. The tears you’d called forward flooded your eyes and the colors on the floor swirled through them. Your heart ached in your chest and the first tear fell.

Brian huffed or scoffed some noise of incredulity. He came towards your slumped form and grasped your chin in his hand. He lifted your head until your eyes met his and you let him see your raw emotion. He caught a glimpse at something neither Morra nor anyone else had ever seen. He went from sneering to concerned in an instant. “What?” you heard him ask. He was leading you to his couch and he made you sit down. He sat with you. Apparently, he wanted his question answered.

Your eyes twitched as you tried not to roll them. You were helpless. Pathetic. You were nothing. “I love him,” you admitted so quietly only a person on NZT sitting less than a foot away from you could hear what you’d said at all.

“What?” he repeated. He looked… Well, confused took the top on the list of things he looked like. Not about how you loved Morra as you figured he already figured that out. You actually weren’t really sure what he was confused about. Maybe he was reacting to your fear, or insecurity, or something else you’d shown that you couldn’t remember showing. “He needs to see you like this,” Brian said. That set off enough alarm bells in your mind to paralyze you for long enough that Brian was able to dial a number. Morra had read him in on this little task.

The other end of the line picked up suspiciously quickly and you wanted to scream. You wanted to take the phone from Brian. You wanted to run away. As usual you did nothing. You sat defeated while Brian took the call.

“I know this line is only for emergencies,” Brian snapped. There was a question on the other end. “She’s fine. Actually, she isn’t fine. She’s crying, but not as hysterically as she wants to, and she looks afraid enough for her life I could be convinced everyone she’s ever met is trying to kill her,” he said. There was a long silence before the other end began talking. “If she isn’t now, she will be… Yeah,” Brian snapped the phone closed.

Broken. You’d heard the word on the other end of the line. Is she broken? Were you? Yes. You’d always been a little bit broken. It was one of the things that attracted Eddie Morra to you. He’d said so himself once. He liked that you were fractured. He liked dissecting the parts of you that were broken, and sometimes he liked to fix or patch those parts, but he always broke something else on his way out. You’d been addicted to him from the first moment you set eyes on him, and he made so subtly sure you remained hooked.

Brian was driving you somewhere. You only noticed when the car stopped, and he was helping you out. Even as you regained cognizance of reality you couldn’t shake your catatonia. It was safer inside the shell where time didn’t exist, but your memories did. Sands had you for what felt like only a heartbeat while he and Brian argued. In the end you’d been passed back to Brian and taken up somewhere. Once you’d been jostled from your full catatonia it was difficult to immerse yourself in it again. For some reason your brain wanted you to be in the moment, and it was doing its best to keep you there.

You were released to someone strong and soft and warm. They were familiar but your heart could not take recognizing who it was comforting you. You leaned into them easily, but the words they said might as well have been alien for all you understood of it. 

“I love you too,”

The words broke through your comprehension like a wrecking ball through an old stone wall. The tears returned, if they had ever left, and you were clutching tightly to the man holding you. You sobbed, wailed, in his arms. You were broken, but with him you felt whole. You’d realized long ago that you’d raze the Earth if he ever decided to leave you. It didn’t matter how justified his hypothetical leaving was.

But he hadn’t left. A small voice in your head reminded you. Edward Morra was here. He was holding on to you as hard as you were holding on to him. And he loved you. That gave you pause. Your embarrassing flood of emotions stilled, and you looked up at him through bloodshot eyes. “What?” you croaked.

“I think you’re referring to what I said an hour ago,” he said. He gave you a look, but he didn’t sound annoyed. “I said I love you,” he repeated. One of his hands gripped your hair and tilted your head back. You gasped. “You’re mine, but you’re so good an actor I never realized I needed to explain what that meant,” he said. 

“You’ve…” your voice tailed off.

“Since I first laid eyes on you,” he confirmed. 

“Me too,” you whispered.

“I know,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh. I'm not really sure how I feel about this fic, but I edited it and everything so here you all are <3 .  
> Comments and Kudos are my life's blood!


	4. *Ian Doyle x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before Ian meets face-to-face with Prentiss. Ian's looking to start his revenge with the woman he knew as Lauren, the woman who killed his only son. The Reader is in just the right circumstances to begin his leverage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-realistic car sex, unprotected sex, revenge sex, sex with a stranger, sex with a Bad Guy. Reader doesn't know Ian is a murderer/arms dealer.

“I need you to stay here,” Aaron said. He’d pulled you into his office early. The rest of the team wasn’t in yet.

“Hotchner,” you said warningly. You only called him that when you were upset with him.

“You hate the south,” he countered, as if that made his order any better.

“This has nothing to do with the south!” you said throwing your arms up dramatically. You shook your head slowly and tried, for what reason you did not know, to hold back tears. “You don’t trust me anymore,” you accused. Although you could have been shouting you weren’t. There was something in you, maybe it was your own hatred of being yelled at, that kept you from ever raising your voice. That didn’t mean Hotchner couldn’t tell exactly how you felt.

His mouth hung open searching for the right words to say but you turned around abruptly and walked out of his office before you broke down completely. You knew he blamed you for Haley’s death. You blamed yourself for Haley’s death, but he couldn’t have as high expectations for you as you held for yourself. No one else on his team saved Haley either and he didn’t blame them. It wasn’t fair but you had put up with his change and suffered quietly like the good little bitch you were supposed to be. You would continue to do so until someone finally confronted you about it. The entire team was trained in profiling. They had to know you were suffering from the change in your relationship with Hotchner. No one seemed to want to talk about it and you were not about to press the issue yourself.

“Woah,” Morgan said. He was entering the bullpen just as you were leaving. You had been trying to pass him without him stopping you. You’d failed. He put his body fully in front of you and concern was written all over his features. His eyes flicked to Hotchner’s office then back to you. “What happened?” he asked.

“I just need some air,” you said, your own eyes refusing to meet his for longer than a heartbeat. Thankfully he let you go by him. You pushed your way through the rest of the FBI facility until you were finally under open skies. The lawn of the Quantico compound was well kept and there were surely plenty of places you could blow off steam, but you needed distance.

You didn’t stop walking until you no longer recognized your surroundings. You weren’t sure how much time had passed but you had to have been walking for a while. There was a quiet set of tables and benches and fountains encompassed by what you assumed were office buildings. The large courtyard was made of some white stone and you sat at one of the black-wire tables. 

The tears had been fought back easily enough when you’d been walking and now that you were still everything wanted to come pouring out of you once more. You fidgeted and observed the few passing office workers and kept your breathing even so as to not work yourself up enough to break down in public. 

Someone sat across from you and it broke you from your daze. You’d been lost in your own little world and startled when the man sat. “You look like you’ve lost someone,” he said. His voice was richly accented. Irish. At least you thought it was Irish. Recognizing accents of any kind was not your strong suit. You offered him a strange look, but he only smiled sadly at you. “I lost my son. He would have been ten in a couple of days,” he said.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” you said in your normal soft voice. The man across from you nodded and you could see his eyes were red, probably from mourning. “I haven’t lost anyone… not like that,” you added after a moment’s pause.

“What has you looking so sad then?” he asked.

“Someone… They loved me, and now they don’t,” you answered slowly. The stranger was quiet for some time after that and you were content to share the silence with him. He wasn’t overtly studying you, but he was studying you. That made you more curious than anything and you studied him as covertly as you could in return. He seemed calm, normal, human.

“Want to get dinner?” he asked. You raised a questioning eyebrow. He’d sat with you of his own accord and you still weren’t sure what his angle was. He only offered you the same judgmental look in return.

You pursed your lips in mock conflict before nodding. “Yeah. I’d like that,” you said. He got up from his chair and you followed him to the street. You were overdue for an impulsive and maybe dangerous decision.

A sleek black SUV pulled up to the sidewalk and for a moment you thought Hotchner had found you. The man, who you now realized you didn’t know the name of, opened the door in the back like he owned it. Apparently, he did. You got in behind him and shut the door. The inside was spacious and comfortable and only a little different from the vehicles you were used to in the FBI. 

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me your name,” you said lightly.

“Do you want to know it?” he asked.

“That depends,” you said, and the man tilted his head curiously. When you offered nothing further, he chuckled and leaned in toward your face. 

“Call me Ian,” he whispered in your ear.

“[y/n]” you whispered back before he sat up again. The car drove away from the curb the moment you closed the door and it wasn’t lost on you that Ian had not told the driver where to go. He still hadn’t, opting instead to study you openly. “What are you looking for?” you asked.

“I’m wondering why a pretty young woman like you would get into a car with a strange old man like me,” he said.

“Does it matter?” you asked curiously.

Ian reached over and grabbed your thigh. He pulled you up until your back was flush against the seat. You looked at him curiously and made no move to stop his actions. He pushed your knees apart and you placed your right foot lightly on the middle console to better open yourself up to him. You didn’t realize your mouth had parted, and you began panting in anticipation until Ian stopped maneuvering you. You had the presence of mind to blush – and close your mouth - but you didn’t break eye contact. 

“Are you in the habit of having car sex with strangers?” he asked.

“Are you?” you shot back lightly. 

He gave you a calculating look. “I’m using you to get revenge,” he admitted.

“You think I have reasons beyond my own selfishness for following you into your car,” you stated.

“I did,” Ian agreed. He began unbuttoning your pants. You shifted your hips and helped him get your pants off. His fingers hooked into your panties and brought them off with your pants. It dawned on you to be embarrassed about having an audience in the driver, but Ian was so unaffected by it that you were fine having the thought slip your mind as soon as it had come.

“I don’t use protection,” he warned.

“I don’t care,” you said. It had been a long time since you’d had sex and you were needy. Ian considered you for a moment and you wondered if you should have the same hesitation. When you made ill-advised decisions you typically did so without pausing to think. You knew you’d be less likely to commit the more you thought.

“Turn around,” Ian ordered gruffly. His voice changed with his growing arousal. You did as he asked and wondered the logistics of being fucked in a moving vehicle.

You had your head low for lack of anywhere else to put it, but your ass was still in the air. Ian’s fingers grabbed around the front of your thighs and he was once again repositioning you to his liking. He spread your thighs a bit further apart and forced your hips forward until your back arched in a way that could quickly become painful. “Do you always get this wet for strangers?” He asked. Two of his fingers thrust into your aching cunt. Your gasp at the intrusion quickly turned into a moan as his exploratory fingers curled inside you.

“I like being man-handled,” you admitted into the seat but loud enough for him to hear you. Ian hummed and stilled his fingers inside of you. You made a noise but resolved to fix the problem yourself instead of whining about it. You moved your hips slightly, testing, and when he didn’t stop you, you began to fuck yourself on his fingers steadily. From the angle you were at and the motion of the car you weren’t able to maneuver as much as he had, but you made due and every time you pulled away from his fingers he’d curl them roughly as if to stop you. His other hand grasped the top of your thigh hard enough you knew you’d be marked.

“Touch yourself,” he said. You were more than eager to do so. Your own well-practiced fingers ran hard circles on your clit as your other hand braced the door to steady you.

“Please,” you panted, “I want you inside me.” With just his fingers inside you, you’d never have orgasmed and now that you could pay attention to you clit you were rushing yourself to the finish line and you wanted him inside of you when you crossed it.

Ian made a disapproving noise. “You’re fucking my fingers so frantically I have the impression you don’t expect this to happen again any time soon. I’m not going to ruin the show just yet,” he said. Your shame was nothing compared to your arousal. You didn’t care you were trying to fuck yourself on this man like some desperate whore – you were desperate. At least it didn’t seem Ian disapproved of what you were doing. You continued to rock back and forth on his fingers. Pleasure coursed through you two-fold from your clit and from where his fingers drug against your insides every time you pulled away from him.

You shuddered suddenly. Your orgasm caught you by surprised and you clenched around his fingers. Too easily over sensitized your fingers stilled on your clit only a heartbeat after your orgasm. Ian removed his fingers from your cunt and wiped them haphazardly on the back of your thigh. “There’s a good girl,” he said, and you heard him unzip his pants. You panted in the aftermath of your orgasm and before you could turn to wonder at what Ian was going to do next, he was on top of you. His legs were between yours keeping you spread, and he grabbed a handful of your hair at its root. You felt him line his cock up with your pussy and he thrust in in a fluid motion.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed as he pressed you against the door. Both of your hands planted on the windows if only to keep your head from smashing into the glass.

“Don’t move and maybe I’ll let you cum again,” he said. His own voice sounded breathy and rougher than before. You whimpered a bit at the command but stilled your hips from the slow rotations you’d been doing. Ian drew back his own hips and his second thrust set the pace. He took you hard and fast and the angle he held you at bordered on painful. “Let’s see how fast I can get you shuddering around me, hmm?” he said. Your hair was released only long enough for him to switch hands. While he used his grip in your hair as leverage for his thrusts his other hand came down and he began toying with your clit.

Where you had rubbed hard vicious circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves Ian was content to give it light strokes. The movements were small things that sent pleasure like electric shocks up your spine. You were not used to someone else giving you pleasure, and it made even the smallest movements feel intense. After your orgasm you hadn’t expected to find pleasure again so soon, and his attention to your clit was not so much to have you shying away. Your moans came more readily as he thrust into you. Every time his fingers brushed your clit your pussy clenched around his dick.

Sirens wailed behind the car and your head snapped up to look out the window. “Ah-ah,” Ian warned, and he used his hand in your hair to force your head back down. “Paranoid, are we?” he asked. You felt the car slow and a sense of dread along with a thrill of perverse pleasure ran through you. Ian had not slowed his pace, if anything he seemed to pick up the pace as though he was feeling the same sudden sense of urgency as you were. Ian’s hips stuttered and he thrust one last hard time before bottoming out and spilling his seed inside of you. You were gasping for air and seriously lamenting not finding sex sooner.

“Sorry love,” he said as he pulled out of you. He put himself away and fixed his pants as you turned around. Your legs were weak, but you picked up your pants and struggled back into them.

“Its fine,” you said breathlessly, “that’s exactly what I needed.” You’d known you weren’t going to be able to orgasm twice in such a short amount of time. All you’d really wanted was to feel someone else inside of you - taking control of you.

“And for calling the cops,” he said, his head tilting towards the window you’d just been pressed up against.

“Shit,” you hissed. You were both decent by the time the officer came to the driver’s door. You saw Morgan look in, but behind his sunglasses you could not gauge what he might be thinking. Clothing meant little when you knew your hair was a mess and your body was so limp. You imagined you had ‘I’ve just been fucked’ written all over you.

“Sir, do you know how fast you were going?” he asked the driver like he wasn’t wholly staring at you.

“I do, but that’s not why you pulled me over is it?” the driver asked. He had an accent similar to Ian’s.

“No,” Morgan agreed, and he sounded resigned. Fuck. You’d forgotten they’d put a tracker on your phone. When they’d done it, you hadn’t imagined they’d use it. You especially hadn’t thought they’d use it to bust you having car sex with a stranger. Wait… The tracker didn’t activate unless you pressed the distress button. When the hell had Ian gotten to your phone to do that? Probably during the extended time you had your back to him.

How had he known to do that?

Your blood ran a bit colder at that thought. He had said he was fucking you for revenge. While Morgan moved around the car to get to your door you leaned into Ian. “You hurt anyone on my team and you and everyone you’ve ever talked to is dead,” you said lowly. Ian only chuckled and you saw your own look of destruction reflected in his eyes. Little did he know you’d win if it came down to it.

You leaned back and turned to the door. Morgan opened it and you accepted his hand as he guided you out of Ian’s black SUV into his own. Hotchner was inside and you almost refused to get into the car next to him, but Morgan would not allow it. You got into the back seat and wondered if it wasn’t too late to crawl into the passenger’s seat. It was. Rossi was in the passenger’s seat giving you a very judgmental look. It seemed they brought the cavalry when you pressed your distress signal. Good to know.

“What were you thinking?” Hotchner asked as soon as Morgan started the car. He looked just as judgmental as Rossi.

“I was thinking I’m a grown ass woman and I can go find attention when I need it,” you retorted. You even looked him in the eyes as you said it. Aaron was the last person who could judge you for your choices. He was the last person on most of your lists now days.

Hotchner huffed incredulously. You knew you hadn’t done anything wrong. You hadn’t even pressed your distress button to call them there. It wasn’t like they could punish you for having consensual sex. “We’re going to have a long talk in my office when we get back,” he warned, and you finally recognized the glint in his eye. Jealousy. Was he jealous? You considered him for a long time, but under the scrutinizing eyes and ears of Morgan and Rossi you couldn’t exactly ask him about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are especially appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos would be lovely <3


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